Payback
by maydays
Summary: When Bella finds her mediocre boyfriend knocking boots with a ditzy mistress, Bella sets off for revenge--an eye for an eye. The way Bella sees it is: Jessica took her boyfriend, Mike, and now she is going to Jessica's boyfriend: Edward.
1. CH1: Payback

_'Ello, all! Ugh, name's May. I have an amazing beta _bitten91_! Without her this would not make sense, so let's all bow down to her amazingness. _

_Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, nor do I intend on stealing them. _

* * *

I hate those movies where a girl drops her keys on the counter, and she is walking slowly up to her room

I hate those movies where a girl drops her keys on the counter, walks slowly up to her room calling out her boyfriend's name with the biggest smile on her face. She'll stop and look at the mail and call his name again—smiling like an idiot all the while—and when he doesn't answer again, she'll cock her head to the side. She will look outside and see his car—I'm thinking a Honda Civic. She will then walk slowly up the stairs and realize for the first time in her dim-witted mind that something is wrong. She'll sniff the air. She won't recognize the floral smell, but be too stupid to draw conclusions. She opens the door and sees four feet. Two very rough and burly and the others perfectly manicured. They will be tangled in a sheet, because—God forbid—they are constricted by another form of cover. Or say they are in nothing at all, but no, that is too difficult. What would they use to conveniently hide all of the sacred body parts? The girl now has two options: self pity expressed through anger or self pity expressed through crying. He'll jump up and grab a handful of the sheet and sit Indian style, clutching the handful of fabric to his chest. "(Insert the nimrod's name here)!" He'll scream. Now the man has a variety of options:

"This isn't what it looks like!"

"I thought you were (insert cliché story here)."

"It just happened!"

"This is the first time!"

Or my favorite, "She's my sister!"

I guess that means I should have seen it coming. I mean, I am oh-so knowledgeable on the subject of movie infidelity. I guess I'm as dim-witted as the next girl.

* * *

It was the longest day on the face of the planet. My feet were _killing_ me, and I needed to sit down. I pulled into the driveway with stealth. I knew that if he was home at this hour he was sleeping. I turned my truck off and got out; inching my door closed, fully aware of the immense noise it radiates when slammed.

I creaked the front door open, and began my just-got-home routine. Keys on the hook—which was nothing more than a bent spoon screwed to the wall, but he thought it was eclectic. I heard the thud of the shower door from upstairs and realized he was awake.

I called his name as I walked into our kitchen. I got no response, but that was nothing unusual. I rolled my eyes at his predictability, and began to skim through the mail. _Not mine, not mine, not mine, junk mail, not mine, PAYCHECK!_ Bingo, that was going to make my day a little better.

I heard another thud and called his name—this time louder than before. Again, I received no response. I cocked my head to the side in confusion, his car was here, right? A quick glance outside confirmed my thoughts. Okay, then what's going on?

iPod. Damn that man. He was always using that damn iPod. God forbid I fall on a steak knife, which is a whole lot more probable than you may think, and he can't come to help me because he's dancing like a moron in our room. I laughed a little to myself, and drudged upstairs.

My feet were still throbbing from a day on my feet, and every step seemed like a chore. I whined a little to my self, and caught myself in what seemed like a moan. _Jesus, _I thought_, I need to sleep. This is ridiculous._

When I reached the top stair, I caught a whiff of something strong. _What the hell is that smell?_ I thought as I approached the door. It smelled like flowers, maybe he was covering up a smell he left lingering in the bathroom. Damn, it was strong. I shook my head and opened the door.

Oh.

_Oh_.

OH!

_Gotcha. _(These were the pieces falling into place.)

"BELLA!" He screamed.

"Yes?" I asked raising my eyebrows.

"This isn't—"He began, but I wasn't interested.

"The best time? I can come back when you're… done." I waved with my hand at the two before me. I guess he expected me to leave, but I didn't. I waited for an answer. When nothing was said, I spoke again. "Well, I'm going to go. Have fun, Mike."

"Bye Bella!" I heard a ditzy voice call.

Without turning I replied, "Bye, Jessica."

I grabbed my keys off that stupid, fucking spoon and jumped in my truck, slamming the door this time: and waited. It was going to hit. I was going to get upset; I was going to feel some emotion right about… now!

Nope. Nothing.

Okay, I am going to get angry at him for doing this! For defiling my sheets! I laughed, _I hated those sheets_. Shit! This was not anger. What was wrong with me? Was I really this… numb? _Numb people don't giggle, Bella_. My conscious countered.

Well, my brain had a point. I sighed, loosing all hope in my ability to produce emotion and started the car. Maybe if I was in a more accommodating situation. I pulled my phone out with that thought, dialing the familiar numbers.

One ring, two rings, thr—

"Hello?"

"Alice, it's Bella." I said, the fact that my voice completely calm came as no surprise to me. Why should it waver?

"Hey, I'm kind of in the middle of a meeting, what's going on, Bells?" She sounded rushed so I forwent the Mike/Jessica and not-so-much me triangle.

"Are you still out of town?"

"I'm only in Seattle, but yes. I will be here for a few more days." She was rushing me now. I had to cut to it.

"Great, can I crash at your place?"

"Why?" She asked, now sounding concerned.

"We have rats." _Two really, really big ones._

"Oh." She said disgusted. "Sure, you know what to do. Listen, let me call you in an hour, okay? I have to go."

"Sure thing. Thanks, Alice."

She didn't even bother to answer, she just hung up. I didn't blame her; it was rather selfish of me to call. I knew she was in a meeting; she was meeting with a few potential retailers about getting her new line off its feet. Unfortunately, my emotional disability was stunting my ability to feel guilt, too.

I was rounding the corner to her house when she hung up; it was a rather short distance to her small cottage-style home, and I could have made the drive in my sleep. I knew Mike could, too, but I didn't really care. I wish I did, but I just couldn't bring myself to care.

Once inside the house, I surveyed the pantry and refrigerator and found ample amounts of food. After deciding I was too lazy to actually cook, I picked up the phone for more options.

Alice had a few places programmed into her phone, and I scrolled through the options.

Chinese? No, I want to pig out, and Chinese never makes you feel "better" after eating it. There was a local bar on the list that had amazing hoagies, but I didn't feel like going through the motions of deciding what to put on it: what bread, what size, and whatnot. I finally decided on pizza. It was simple, and it was fast.

The phone rang 7 times before someone picked up. I thought blankly to myself what time it actually was, and the day. Friday, 7pm. I groaned, maybe this wouldn't be as quick as I planned.

"Hello, Pies'RUs, home of the best pizza this side of the Peninsula. How may I be of service?" A voice finally answered.

I giggled at the monotone voice and his obvious lack of interest. "I want pizza."

"And?"

"That's it." I smiled.

"What do you want _on_ the pizza?"

"Cheese," I blurted out, "and, veggies. Give me all the vegetables you have, lots of them."

"Okay, one large standard veggie pizza—"

"LOADED." I stressed. I heard him sigh and the clicking of an old keyboard.

"It will be about an hour, is that okay?" His voice was still blank and monotone.

"That's perfect. Thank you."

"Alright, bye."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and placed my hands on my hips, looking around the dark room. I quickly decided it was too dark and began flipping on all of the lights. First the living room, then the hallway and then the bathroom, and Alice's room, and the kitchen. Now I was back where I originally stood. "Oh, but with energy bills so high, maybe I shouldn't."

I proceeded to turn off all the lights except the kitchen. I sat on the couch and smiled; I turned on the TV and sighed in defeat. There was a glare from the kitchen light on the screen. I stood up to turn off the kitchen light. I ran—not knowing why, but ran—to Alice's bathroom to turn her light on and left the door open. I ran back into the living room, and realized it was still a little to dark.

I flipped Alice's room's light on, and decided the lighting was perfect, so I went to the bathroom to turn that one off. As I sprinted into the bathroom, I slipped—into true Bella fashion—on the tile. I laughed to myself a little, and picked my self up by grasping onto the pedestal sink. When my head finally became parallel with the mirror I gasped.

_Who was this person?_ I looked utterly miserable. I felt like hugging the reflective object to get to this pathetic image in front of me. I began to touch my cheekbones, which were quite obtrusive and pointed. The blush I once possessed was entirely gone. I had circles under my eyes that gave away my lack of sleep. My chin came to an abrupt point due to its lack of surrounding fat.

I was literally skin and bones.

The ringing of the door bell alerted me that I wasn't alone anymore. I jumped back from my haze and flipped off the light and moped to the door.

I guess my emotions were back. I felt myself holding back tears.

I opened the door to see a burly looking man holding a pizza box. He wasn't dressed in uniform and wore no name tag. "Oh." I said, not realizing time had flown by, "I didn't think the pizza was supposed to come yet."

"I'm, like, ½ an hour early." He grinned, and pushed the pizza toward me. "Here, it's on the house. I was getting off to go home and saw it sitting there. It was on the way." He beamed a little brighter and I saw a flash of his pristine teeth.

Oh, no. Not now. "That…" I choked back a sob, "is so-" I sniffled and looked up in the air hoping gravity would prevent the tears from falling, "…nice." I let out a sob, and saw the look of horror on his face.

_Great, now he thinks I'm insane. Who cries over pizza, Bella? Who?!_

"Well," he said, shoving the pizza more in my direction, had I not taken it yet? "It was really no big deal." He was backing his body away. I could tell he was frightened.

I stood there for a minute trying to grab hold of the emotions I had been begging for all day.

"Are you alright, lady?" He asked, still holding the damn pizza.

"Bella." I choked, the lump in my throat fighting with me to stay.

I saw the man's eyes divert inside the house and something held his gaze. I followed it to the TV. ESPN was showing a baseball game. I took a deep breath, this I could talk about. "You a, uh…" I breathed deeply again, "you a baseball fan?" He grinned without breaking his gaze.

"Hell yeah, who's playing, I can't tell from here."

"Tampa Bay and Boston, just started, first inning."

"Where?" He asked.

"Fenway," I gulped. It was getting better. God, what was with the assault, emotions?

The man looked back at me and smiled. "Listen, I'm not a stalker, rapist, axe murderer, serial killer, and I'm certainly not a therapist, but it looks like you need someone here with you. I can just sit here."

I laughed, "Is your TV broken?"

"This is supposed to be an awesome game!" He whined.

"You like veggie?" I asked eyeing the pizza. He grinned a winning smile and stepped inside.

"I'm Emmett." He said extending his other hand, for the other hand was still holding that god forsaken pizza.

"Bella."

"I know, you told me." He winked. "Now, can I put this pizza down before I get third degree burns?"

"Sure, on the counter." I jumped on the couch and assumed my typical position in the corner, legs folded up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. Emmett sat down a comfortable distance away on the couch with two slices in hand, both on paper towels.

He handed me one and smiled sheepishly. "I couldn't find plates."

"I don't think Alice owns any." I giggled. She was hardly ever home, and when she was she was at Jasper's and not eating much of anything inside her home. She was a nibbler. Everything in her house was snack worthy, nothing of real substance.

Emmett and I both became immersed in the game. It had its ups, but mostly is was steady and calm tempered. It was a good talking game. You wouldn't miss anything by talking.

"So, you let me watch your TV…"

"…and eat my pizza." I reminded him with a nudge.

"And eat your pizza." He sighed, "Now it's my turn." He grabbed the remote and paused the game. "Why the hell were you crying over pizza?"

I cringed, I was that bad. "Can we start off with another subject, and maybe ease into that?" I suggested.

"Okay." He beamed. "Rays or Sox?"

"I'm a total Sox fan, but I mean, the Rays…" I trailed off.

"I know, they just came out of no where. They are totally going to get the wild card and make the playoffs! Where did they come from anyway?"

"Somewhere out in left field," I murmured.

"Yeah." He said quietly. A moment of silence passed before Emmett spoke again, "Hey, Bella."

"Yeah?"

"Why the hell were your crying over a pizza?"

I slumped and cocked my head to the side, "I'm no good at this, Emmett. I don't _do_ girl stuff."

"Me neither." He smiled.

I sighed, "Fine. I, uh, I saw my reflection in the mirror."

Emmett let his jaw drop, "Are you blind?" I shrugged. "You're gorgeous don't you know that? You think you're ugly?"

"No! Well, yes, but that's not why I was crying." Emmett let the subject drop and decided to move on; there were bigger fish to fry than my obvious lack of confidence. He waited for my explanation, I sighed in defeat. "I saw myself and hated what I saw," he tightened his jaw, "not my appearance, but… what my appearance said about me. It didn't say what I wanted it to say, you know?" He stared blankly. "You can see a girl with a big nose and too much weight on her, and pimples all over her face, but if she looks happy it almost doesn't matter." He nodded slowly. "I'm not saying I'm that girl, I'm saying I look miserable, and it's because I am… I was. I think, maybe."

"Go on."

"I found my boyfriend, soon-to-be-fiancé in bed with a friend of mine. Well, friend of ours—obviously she was better friends with him," I cut in, "she's a ditz, completely unaware of the world, and its many social queues. When I found them she waved 'hi' to me." I scoffed, "And the thing was… I wasn't upset. He was… Mike. Nothing too special, but it seemed like I was almost happy with him, and then I found them together, and I wasn't upset at all. I only got upset when I realized what affect he had on me." I gestured to my face.

"Miserable." I finally said.

I breathed out quickly at the end of my small rant. It actually felt better to say something… out loud… to someone. Emmett looked as if his head might implode with concentration. I was worried about his mental health and began to shake his shoulder, "Emmett?"

"Yeah! What?" He said snapping out of his fog.

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking." He beamed. "I have an idea of what might make you feel better." I cocked my head to the side in confusion. "Pay back, and eye for an eye, Bella."

"I don't want to roll his house or anything, Emmett." He glared at me at this statement.

"Give me some credit, here."

I smiled, "Okay, what?"

"This girl… Jessica?" I nodded, "She is an idiot, and obviously he was just in it for the sex. She seems dumb enough to think of it as something more." I kept nodding not sure where he was going with this. "Does Jessica have a boyfriend?"

I racked my brain for details, "Yeah, yeah, she does!"

"Take him." Emmett grinned evilly.

"Excuse me?"

"Take him. Use your woman-powers and snag the sucker, he can't be that smart if he's stooping to her level, and leave Jessica to Mike. Become her friend—it will help you get closer to the boyfriend, anyway, and make Jessica realize Mike is the only man for her." I stared at him with my brow furrowed.

"Come on, Bella, think about it. You are doing the guy a favor, Mike will be miserable without any physical harm—which could be taken care of," he reassured me, "and Jessica gets to fall in love." He batted his eyelashes and I giggled.

"Well that's a _positive_ spin."

"…because there is nothing negative about it." He was smiling so hard at his genius idea I thought his face might crack.

"If I do this…" He jumped in excitement, "_if_ I do this. I want to make sure no one gets hurt. You are going to help me with this, okay? _No_ one gets hurt." He raised an eyebrow at me, "Except Mike, because he's a bastard."

Emmett jumped up. "I have to call, Rose!"

"Who's that?"

"My girl," he said covering the mouthpiece of his phone.

"Rose, hey…" he trailed off into the conversation and I let my mind wonder on about the possibilities.

_What am I getting myself into? I am going to _purposely_ hurt someone. I never do that… at least Mike didn't do it on purpose… or did he? I mean, he heard me calling his name. He had to, and there is no way he could have _not_ hear my truck, and I made a lot of noise and…_

"Oh my God!" I said standing up. Emmett ended his conversation and looked at me.

"What?"

"I hate Mike!" I screamed at Emmett.

"Good!" He screamed back.

"Payback's a bitch." I murmured.

"No," Emmett said, "_you_ are."

* * *

_Hope you all enjoyed it! Next chapter will be up in no later than 7 days! _:)


	2. CH2: Miso?

_This is the revised version, I had to post before my amazing beta _bitten91_, could get a hold of it because Gustav was heading this way. The hurricane turned out to be very minor and did nothing to me. So thank god for that! I hope everyone enjoys. Because I did think the hurricane was going to blow my house down, I posted this ASAP and it was rather short. A little filler, just giving you more information on Jessica and Mike and Bella... and Edward, too, of course! Enjoy! _:)

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, except way too many bottles of water for a hurricane that did nothing._

* * *

I hate those moments in movies where everyone in the theatre knows what is about to happen except for the characters.

Some girl will be out at lunch with a friend of hers, and it will be awkward. Why? Because the other girl slept with her boyfriend. They both know it, but the other girl is too stupid to get up and leave. This is when you know. When the dumb girl goes against her flight instincts and chooses to fight, you know—there's going to be a twist. The mistress is going to be pregnant. She's going to be dying of cancer. She's going to be lesbian and secretly in love with the other girl. Regardless, there will be a twist. It's totally predictable… sometimes.

* * *

I knew very little about Jessica's boyfriend other than he was away a lot, and was fairly reserved—a comical contrast to Jessica's "bare-it-all" nature that had recently surfaced. I was fairly certain he was in the medical field, or planning to become a member of the medical field or something of that nature. Other than that all I knew was that his name was Edward.

"Sounds like a prick." Emmett murmured with a pen stuck between his teeth, a notepad in his hand.

It had occurred to us that the Boston Sox hadn't a chance in hell, and the game became boring around the 7th inning; our alternative was plotting the take down of Mike and his flighty mistress Jessica.

"He might be a prick, Emmett, but I am willing to sacrifice myself to hours upon hours of prickyness to insure Mike's mental instability." I smiled brightly, while Emmett snorted.

"Well, how are you going to meet him?"

"I don't know; you're the one that came up with this." I pointed out.

He pondered for a while and turned to me, "I say you go through Jessica. It's not like she's the brightest one in the bunch; she'll probably never see it coming."

"…or when it does." I smirked.

"Girls do lunch dates, right?" I nodded. "Take her to lunch or something. What do chicks eat? Sushi? Get her a big ass roll of sushi and probe her with questions."

"Okay." I began scribbling _Take whore to lunch—SUSHI_ in my planner. Emmett saw this and laughed. "Now, this is the hard part, for me anyway, but what do I ask her? _Mind if I sleep with your boyfriend in some horrible scheme for revenge?_"

"She might say yes."

"Not—helping."

We both sat in silence for a few minutes going through different scenarios in our minds. In one of mine, Jessica ended up with a chop stick flying at inhuman speeds toward her face. I laughed, and so did Emmett. I assumed he had a similar image playing in his head.

After multiple scenarios where Jessica's fate was less than adequate, Emmett jumped up yelling, "I got it!"

* * *

"Thanks so much for taking me to sushi, Bella!" Jessica squealed, bouncing minimally as we entered the bar. I hoped to god she wouldn't embarrass me too much, and if she did, I hoped it was before they instilled my threatening hands with chopsticks.

"Oh, it was _my_ pleasure." I smiled. _Did I look evil? I felt evil, like forcing-a-guy-to-watch-_The-Notebook-_four-times-in-a-row-evil._

We approached the hostess stand and waited for assistance. Unfortunately, Emmett's "hole in the wall" sushi bar had gained popularity because it was packed, which was fine, other than the fact that Jessica and I would have to wait 10 minutes—alone. "You can take a seat on those benches over there." The small Japanese woman smiled.

My eyes followed her finger to a quaint nook in the restaurant with no occupants. "Over there?" I confirmed, hoping I was just hearing her accent wrong.

"Yes." She smiled.

Sighing, I grabbed my purse and headed over to my own personal hell. Alone time with Jessica, what could be better? Well, I hear Chinese water torture is fun.

As if a prayer had been answered, Jessica's phone began to buzz. The bejeweled object shook violently three times before playing the most heinous music to ever grace my ears. _I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world. Life is plastic; it's fantast—_"Hello! Jessie speaking." She giggled.

It took every muscle in my body to refrain a twitch of my left eye.

She began to giggle incessantly and call the receiver multiple pet names. My gag reflex was not holding up too well when I remembered my mission. I was here to steal her boyfriend. My ears perked to the conversation unwillingly.

"Oh, Boo boo, I meess yous too!"

"Oh my God." I gagged.

Jessica spun around quickly covering the mouthpiece with her hand, "Are you okay?" She screeched. I nodded and smiled and she resumed her conversation. I leaned in again.

"I wanna jus' kiss your widdle cheekies."

_Okay, fuck no. I'm leaving, this is not worth it._ Jessica must have hung up the phone because she was utterly taken back when I stood. "Where are you going?" She said eyeing my purse. Before words could tumble out of my mouth, they were out of hers. "Is this because of Mike on the phone?"

My jaw dropped. "That was Mike?"

She nodded innocently, "Did you want me to say _hi_ for you?"

Every reason for my being there crept back into my brain and I sat down violently. "That was Mike on the phone?" She nodded again. "You mean my Mike? My _boyfriend_ Mike?"

Jessica threw her hands up at my as if stopping traffic. "Woah, woah, woah. Are you two still dating?"

"Stanley—party of two." The hostess called. I was hardly interested in food, but Jessica shot up before I could protest.

"That's us!" She yelled.

We were shown to our table, and before my body made contact with the seat, I was probing Jessica. "You were saying?"

"About?" She cocked her head to the side. _Thank god, they haven't given me chopsticks. _

"Mike." I gritted through my teeth.

"Oh, yeah." She her hair bounced annoyingly as he nodded. "He said you two weren't dating anymore."

"We aren't…" I tried to explain, "but it's only been about, oh, I don't know," I glanced at my watch, "twenty hours since you could call our relationship 'over'."

Jessica had been eyeing her menu careful and moving her lips trying to pronounce the names of the sushi rolls. As I spoke she repeated the word "miso" several times. _My-soh. My-seeeeh. Mee-saw. _My last bit of information must have startled her, because she looked up confused.

"Say what?"

My breathing technique used to control my temper now resembled that of Lamaze classes. It was taking every ounce of strength I had to wait and kill her.

"Holy hell, Jessica!" Her eye went wide, but it wasn't over. "Mike! Mike, my boyfriend, and—NO—we aren't "over" until we actually talk to each other. I'm not _planning_ on continuing the relationship, but, hey! He's one hell of a guy, I mean, he picked you!"

One might expect silence; one might assume there to be a pause on Jessica's part to contemplate. But, no; not Jessica.

"So… you guys are still, like, a couple?"

"OHMYGOD!" _Where the hell are my chopsticks? Where the hell is my _steak _knife?_

And then another cliché walked into my life. "Jessica?"

Jessica's head spun around so fast that Emily Rose would have been impressed, making what seemed like three spin-a-rounds before it stopped. "Eddie?"

_Awesome,_ I thought, _the more the fucking merrier with the way _this_ lunch is going. Where's the waitress, I want Saki… or vodka. _

I excused myself from the table before waiting to see who it was that was coming. I rushed to the bathroom to make sure I wasn't _actually_ foaming at the mouth and it was a figment of my imagination. To my immense surprise, I didn't look like an utter fool, and I seemed to be regaining color in my cheeks.

I was angry. **Angry**!

Well, this was certainly a happy bit of information. The last time I checked, angry was an emotion. Maybe Jessica was some kind of thing or whatever in disguise. Maybe she… no—no one is that cruel—Jessica was Lucifer's mother, and she was taking out her aggression on me.

_Lucifer… Lucy. _I thought, _Oh, that has potential for nicknames. _

I walked back to the table with the utmost intention of grabbing my purse and leaving when I noticed someone in my chair. _Awesome._ I approached the back of the man and noticed his shirt was too fashionable to be worn by a straight man and decided to forgo any possibility of relations.

I fiercely rapped my index and pointer fingers against his shoulder, and he turned slowly.

"Bella!" Jessica squealed.

Did she seriously have the memory of a walnut?

The man cringed at Jessica's squeal and smiled at me. He was attractive, sure, but undoubtedly gay. I did the checklist in my head.

_Clothes: Designer—gay_

_Hair: Perfect color and slightly tussled, yet seemingly perfect; the working of a gay man—gay_

_Eyebrows: finely tuned, brought attention to his traffic halting green eyes—gay_

Three strikes: he's gay.

"This is Eddie-Weddie, Bella!" The bird squawked again.

"Yeah, okay." I shut her off, "Nice to meet you Eddie-Weddie. I'm going to need my bag; can you grab it for me?"

He smiled at my dry humor. That was cute, he found me funny; I should introduce him to my friend Jacob sometime. But, right now, I was booking it to the nearest bar, and that required money, and a phone, which were located between Eddie-Weddie's feet.

He still hadn't spoken. Was he retarded? "Listen, Ed, it's been amazing, and maybe sometime we can sit and chat, but right now, I have to go."

"You're leaving?" I heard Jessica wail.

"Talking." I motioned to Eddie-Weddie and I.

She sat up straight and pretended to button her lips. I prayed with all my might I didn't have sharp pencils in my purse. "So, if you could just get that little bag right there for me that would be awesome."

He smiled at me again, but no words fell from his lips and no motion for my bag was made. I assumed my gay assumption was correct and bent over his lap to get my purse.

"You don't remember me, do you?" Eddie-Weddie finally spoke as my head was passing his crotch.

"No," otherwise, I would have used more profane language, "have we met?" I asked in a muffled voice, I heard dishes cling as I hit the table with my back.

"Silly Bella! This is my boyfriend, Edward!"

At this I yanked my body up, and rather than a dramatic display of a flipped table, I just jostled the plates a little more, and managed to give myself an 11 inch bruise on my back. I slinked from under that table—purse in hand—and looked the man in the eye.

"Oh my god, I am _so _sorry." I told him, and left heading for the closest bar hoping 12:00 wasn't _too_ much of a red flag for my impending alcoholism that this plan was bound to impress on me.

* * *

_The next chapter will be "meatier" as my beta, _bitten91_, refers to it. Hope your enjoyed. _:)


	3. CH3: Illusions

_Hello, all! I would first like to say thank you to the great reviews! Everyone has been amazing, I truly appreciate it. Secondly, I'd like to, of course, thank my beta for putting up with me. Thirdly, I'd like to say that this story has more language than I originally thought. If anyone feels it should be moved to a Mature rating please PM; I don't want to offend anyone! But on a more positive note: Enjoy! _:)

_Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight; the world would be a scary place if I did._

* * *

I hate drunken people in movies.

A heart broken girl will come out of some heart breaking relationship, and she will find her only option a good drunken stupor. I'm thinking she'll hit the tequila hard. Most girls do; it makes them look tough—they're badass, breaking the mold, breaking free of their past!—no, it's just the quickest way to get drunk. They'll blab to anyone and everyone about their relationship. They'll fall and giggle. They'll giggle and fall. People around them will want to shoot themselves, and find it hardly endearing. But she won't care! She's a free woman! She doesn't need men! Oh yes, now is the time a rant about men will ensue, invariably leading to one of the following:

a. her throwing up for comic relief

b. her passing out as an epic signal to her down fall

c. her going home for a one night stand showing her unhealed wounds

_Ah, the predictability of it all._

* * *

Ringing. Waiting. Ah, modern technology, how far you have to go.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Rr—_

"Busy!" he boomed.

"Emmett, I hate you." I snarled into the receiver.

"Not—now." Emmett growled.

I laughed without humor. "Fine, I'm coming over."

"Bella, I count do this right—"

I heard a groan and bed springs bouncing. Rosalie was obviously pissed, because I heard a door slam. "Shit." Emmett muttered to himself, "Happy?"

"Extremely, Emmett! Your plan is shit! You don't get to have sex while I'm out here drowning in the idiocy of _your_ ideas!" I justified with a smirk.

"What happened?" he groaned, obviously still frustrating about his current lack of satisfaction.

"Jessica is an idiot!"

"Yeah?" the _we knew this_ was implied through his tone.

"I had to spend _alone_ time with her!" I shrieked. My cabbie was beginning to become worried. I saw his eyes shift worriedly in the rear view mirror, obviously judging my mental stability. I decided to address the issue, "Just get me to Jake's fast."

Emmett heard this. "Jake's? You're drinking?"

"Obviously."

"It's 12:00 in the afternoon!"

"…and your point?" I drew out.

"Call me when you're done. I don't want a cabbie having the opportunity to take advantage of you."

"And you wouldn't want to miss the opportunity to gain months of comic ammunition at my expense." I snapped.

"Obviously." He laughed. "Are you done?"

I sighed, defeated. "I suppose."

"This conversation had no purpose." He pointed out.

"Oh, yes it did!" I squealed mockingly. "The restraint of your sexual needs will always fill a void in my life." He snorted. "Besides, it was nice filler… for the car ride."

"Go get hammered." He laughed.

"I plan on it." He hung up the phone and I stepped out of the cab with a wad of cash in hand. The cabbie rolled his passenger side window down. "Keep the change." I said, throwing it in his front seat. The man looked at me as if I was insane. He gobbled up the cash quickly in his pocket and sped away. I smiled to myself, he wouldn't realize until later that I was short 5 dollars and gypped him the change.

"Jakey Wakey!" I sang walking through the bar's doors. The bar was supposed to be closed, but I had a key for occasions like these. I had to admit, the place was relatively disgusting. It looked straight out of a bad seventies movie. Everything, _everything_ was made of wood. There was a mirror behind the bar with "Heineken" edged into the glass, and even that was fading. There were booths covered in red pleather, of course. There was a juke box with missing lights, and there was a big screen TV, but most importantly, there was liquor.

Jake emerged from the back cleaning a beer glass with a dish towel, obviously trying with all of his might to fill the cliché. It was probably a clean glass, and he just thought it was what he was supposed to be doing.

"Hey, you." He muttered. He hated me showing up at noon to drink. He said it was "unhealthy" or something.

I smiled at him, in turn, for his greeting. "I'm thirsty!"

"I assumed." He said with narrowed eyes. After setting the glass down, he sighed, and waved his hand toward himself, "Well, come on."

I smiled brightly and skipped behind the bar. I ran into the back room and grabbed a blanket that he kept in his office for these instances, and back behind the bar before he had time to ask what had brought me here this time. I folded the blanket twice and laid it behind the bar on the floor out of site from possible customers.

I propped myself up against the wood backing of the inside of the bar, and smiled, patting a spot on the blanket next to me. Jake sat next to me without reluctance, there was no use arguing with me now. His back was propped against the inside of the bar like mine, and our eyes were now at eye level with—as far as I was concerned— the Mecca of liquor.

"Where should we start?" I squealed clasping my fingers together and turning to Jake.

"Let's _pretend_ we're classy today." I crumpled my nose in disgust, "Drink some white wine now, tell me what happened and later you can ravage my whiskey and rum stash."

"Deal!" I blurted out.

He shook his head from side to side in laughter and disappeared into the back room and returned with a bottle of white wine and two mix matched coffee cups. I laughed at the image as he sat. "What?" He asked somewhat offended. "Is it the cups? They're classy!"

"One, this one," I said motioning to the one in his right hand, "has a picture of dog in a birthday hat, and this one," I motioned to the other one, "has an optical illusion puzzle on it." He laughed at this. "Two! There is a orange price sticker on our classy wine." I pealed the small ticket off, and read the price. "12.99? Why, Mr. Black! You didn't have to spend all that money on little ole' me!" My voice portrayed that of a horrible southern belle.

"Shut up." Jake demanded, "and drink." My glass began to fill, and before the questioning could begin I threw back the horrible excuse for Zinfandel. "It's not a shot, Bella."

"I wish." I muttered.

"So, am I going to have to pull teeth for this? Or are you going to be a good little girl and spill?" He chided.

"Whiskey?" I pouted.

"…and rum!" He smiled with false enthusiasm.

I took in a deep breath. And closed my eyes, it was easier if I said all this with eyes closed, that way all dropped jaws and mouthed 'no ways' could be avoided. "Mike slept with Jessica. I came home and walked in on him, and so I left for Alice's. I started turning on all her lights. Then I turned them all off because of rising energy bills. She shouldn't have to pay for my emotional instability." I amended. "And I couldn't cry, and I ordered a pizza, and Emmett came and gave it to me, and I started crying and he thought I was crazy, and he loves baseball so we watched baseball."

"Who's—"

"Shh!" I reprimanded. "So Emmett said I should steal Jessica's boyfriend because she took mine and so Jessica and I went to sushi, and they put us in corner—alone! And BARBIE GIRL! And then she was talking to him and I was gagging, and _him_ happened to be _Mike_ and then we sat down and she couldn't say miso! MISO! And then she spilled the beans." I stopped and took a breath. "Her and Mike weren't a one time thing, they've been whatever for however long. Because Jessica's not about some monogamy. Because her boyfriend… he's not gay! The gay man was her boyfriend, which makes him straight, because her boyfriend isn't gay. And my head was all up in his crotch, and he was all about some casual conversation _then_, and then I left, and I was in the cab. And Emmett isn't having sex. Well, he might be right now, but he wasn't. And I gypped the cabbie five bucks."

"Who's gay?" Jake picked up.

"Not Edward!" I yelled at him, finally opening my eyes.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Edward, Jessica's boyfriend; keep up, child!" My wine glass was jut out before him, and he filled it up willingly.

"I never like that Mike shit."

"I did!" I wailed.

"You staying here long, then?" Jake assumed. The worse the stories were, the longer I would stay.

"Until Emmett drags me out kicking and screaming." I shrugged.

"Good. We're opening in an hour. I'll turn the TV to baseball until then. That'll calm you down while I clean. Okay?" He stood up and groaned. His height and low proximity the ground didn't mix well.

"Mkay." I smiled. Jake kissed the top of my head on the way up from the bar, and walked to the front of the counter to turn on the big screen. I smiled when I saw the Boston Sox playing the Oakland A's. They'd definitely win. I watched the game from my nook on the floor by watching the reflection of the game in the Heineken mirror. Everything was backwards, but I was encroaching on a buzz and it didn't matter.

For what I could hear, Jake was sweeping. Why? I didn't know, it seemed the dirt on the floor was permanent and his cleaning was merely for Health Inspector's peace of mind. During commercials Jake would prattle about his personal life.

I didn't listen. My optical illusion cup was far too amusing.

"Jakey! Did you know that there are dots in this checker board? It's like magic!" I felt my jaw drop in awe.

"Awesome, Bella." He called. But I knew better, he didn't think it was awesome.

"You're an asshole, Jake!" I said matter-of-factly. "And I don't know why we are friends. I mean, I don't even like you. You're an asshole with a bar, which makes you slightly more appealing. But that's about it." I let a hiccup escape me. "Asss-hooooole."

"Did you just hiccup?" This time his voice sounded vaguely amused.

"I did not!"

He chuckled at me. "You did."

"Liar!" I screamed.

Next I heard his foot steps, harmless as he was, they sounded menacing. I shrunk into the floor with my coffee cup in hand. I was now flat on the floor, looking up at the ceiling. Jake leaned his body over the bar, obstructing my view. "You hiccupped." He smiled. I giggled at him. "What?"

"Smile!" I demanded.

He did. This caused me to laugh harder. "Your smile is turned, Up. Side. Down!"

"Jesus Christ." He said shaking his head from side to side. "I'd say you're drunk, but you're typically more belligerent when you are. What's got you in such high spirits?"

"I'm going to steal a hottie!" My smile hurt it was spreading so far across my face.

"What?"

I sat up now, my back against the liquor shelves, and looked at Jacob somewhat straight. "Edward, Jake!" I said as if anyone would know. "He's a hottie." I smiled, "Hoddie wid a boddie!" I screamed.

"Right here!" A voice screamed.

I narrowed my eyes at Jake. "That wasn't you?" Jake propped himself up off the bar, and looked toward the front. I couldn't see who had entered, I could only see Jake's head as he spoke to him.

"Hey, man, we don't open for another half an hour. Maybe you can come back, then."

"I'm with Bella, man."

"Who _goes_ there?" I yelled in an Old English accent. When I heard the laugh I knew. "Emmett!" Jake looked at me. "Oh, Jakey, can Emmett please come in early? I want to show him my blanket." I began to caress my yellow and white quilt, and before I knew it, Emmett was sitting down with me.

"What's for dinner?" he said eyeing my glass.

"Optical illusions!"

Emmett laughed, and stood up again. He leaned over the bar, and extended a hand. "I'm Emmett McCarthy, man. Pizza delivery boy turned Oprah, courtesy of Bella." He flashed Jake a smile, and Jake smiled widely back.

"Down, Jake. This man's all about some girl." Even through his tan I could see Jake's blush.

It always amazed me that Jake allowed me to drink myself silly on his bar floor as frequently as I did. I was sure I had outted him to more men than he would have liked, but he took it like a man, and brushed it off.

Emmett looked him up and down. Jake and I both waited for his reaction. "Dude, that's awesome. I'm down with the rainbow, but the squirt here's right, I like me some Rosalie." He grinned at her name.

"Where _is_ she?" I asked.

"She went up to her mother's for the weekend, she was throwing a big cocktail party for her father's firm or something, and she needed help. Rose didn't exactly want to go, but she didn't exactly want to hang around me, either. She was a little miffed about my phone calls during sex, too."

I shrugged, "Didn't have to answer, there, bro."

"Next time I won't." He smiled, then returned his attention to Jake. "You need some help setting up before you open? I'm sure she hasn't been to much of a help." He said jerking a thumb at me.

Jake agreed, and Emmett began retrieving chairs out of the back room. I huffed at the insult and spun my body back to the front of the bar so that my back was against the front and I was facing the mirror again, keeping me out of any customer's sight.

I began playing with the fringe on the quilt and after thirty minutes or so my buzz was winding down. Emmett came and took a seat beside me and laughed at my position. I was lying on my side with my eyes firmly glued on the baseball mirror. Jake came behind the bar, stepping over Emmett and I's bodies and began to set out the liquor he would need for the night.

"So, Jacob, man, who opens a bar at 3:00 in the afternoon?" Emmett said, striking up casual conversation. Jake took the bait for discussion and began to speak about "regulars" and "good business" while retrieving bottles from the shelf before me. I would whine every time he blocked the baseball mirror earning a laugh from both he and Emmett.

"She like this a lot?" Emmett asked.

I saw Jake nod. I assumed they spoke of me because they thought I was asleep. _Were my eyes closed? Huh. _

"Usually she's angrier. She's actually been funny. Back to the old Bella."

"I could kill that Mike guy." Emmett growled.

"He deserves nothing less; although, him cheating on her was the best thing for her, she got out of that shit relationship and apparently she gets to steal a… let me get this right… _hoddie wid a boddie_."

Jake and Emmett laughed.

"Yeah, I never thought she'd actually do it, but here she is…"

"…passed out drunk on my floor." Jake laughed.

The two began to let the conversation about me fade, and began to talk baseball statistics. I wanted to laugh at Jake's lack of knowledge in the subject, but my mouth wouldn't move.

* * *

The next time I opened my eyes, it was dark. The bar wasn't allowing light to trickle into the dust filled room because there was no sun. I groaned, and began to sit up, but a hand kept me where I was. I tried to fight it, but his hand pushed me down farther. I placed my head back on the ground, but kept my eyes open. My eyes soon found the baseball mirror, but a man in a fedora was blocking my view. _Why did he have to sit _there_? _

"Gin and tonic?" I heard Jake confirm, "Alright, coming up."

He bent down before me, "The health inspector's something is here." He muttered.

"The what?" I said, obviously to loud for his taste, because he clapped his hand on mine as a reprimand.

"His…brother, son, I'm not sure, maybe nephew, I wasn't listening to his little ramble until he said 'health inspector'." I nodded in understanding. If the guy saw me here he'd report it to his… whatever. And a drunken girl on the floor was not the best way to rack up points.

"I'll stay here," I assured him. He nodded, "and I'll stay quiet." At this he stood up.

"Sorry for the wait, I just couldn't find the damn bottle." Jake apologized, pouring his drink.

"Don't worry about it. I'm a little more worried about you talking to yourself."

I knew that voice! "Jasper!" I yelled standing up in a flash.

"Bella?" He yelled back.

"Bella?" Jake growled.

"Belwa!" Emmett slurred.

"Bella!" Some random man chimed in.

I half-ran to Jasper and embraced him in hug that lasted for too long, and became awkward. I stepped back and appraised him, "You drunk?" My eye brow rose.

"No." He pouted. "I'm picking Alice up at the airport. She's taking the red eye. Are _you_ drunk?"

"Not anymore, but I'm planning to amend that." I beamed.

"Of course you are." He smirked.

Jasper peered over the bar at my camp and then back at me. I sighed after seeing the uncertainty and anger on Jacob's face. "Don't tell your person or whatever that good ole Jake here is taking in drunkards like me, okay?"

"No worries, man." Jasper assured Jake.

Jake smiled, and moved on to other barflies. I took a seat next to Jasper. "Gin and tonic?" I scoffed in disappointment. I hurled my body over the bar and grabbed my coffee cup and Jake's and a bottle of Jack. I set the instruments for disaster in front of me and leapt back over. "What'll it be? Birthday-hat-dog or optical illusion cup?"

"How about we talk about what lead to you sleeping behind a bar drunk?"

"No, you crazy Quack, I'm not talking about my feelings, dark past, fucked up relationships, or plans to ruin other people's lives." He smiled at my assertiveness, no doubt taking mental notes.

I decided he was not worthy of my optical illusion cup and took it for my own, pouring it half full, and giving Jasper ¼ of an inch of liquor. He scowled at me.

"Hey, you're the DD, man." I shrugged.

"What? Why am I the DD?"

"Cause Emmett's off his ass, and dancing on the booth o'er yander, and I'm not capable of being in a bar sober."

"Try it," he challenged.

I attempted to look like I was pondering and when Jasper turned his hand to assize Emmett's dance show, I chugged the entirety of my optical illusion cup, slamming it on the table with a loud thud. "Mr. Whitlock, I believe you are DD."

Being the better person, he sighed, and nodded in defeat. I squealed and poured myself a full glass, and ran over to Emmett. "I want to dance!"

"I don't know, Bella. You suck at agility."

"You can't say agility! You're drunk!" I yelled, legitimately confused.

"Yes, but I'm an intellectual drunk."

"Impossible, my friend!"

"I shall prove it to you!" He jumped onto the floor with a stagger and found his balance quickly, though his eyes still shifted warily. "The quadratic formula is…"

There was a long pause, "Yes, Emmett?"

"Negative B plus or minus the square root of B squared minus 4AC all over 2A!"

My mouth fell open, "I'm so impressed!"

"With what?"

"You! How did you do that?"

"Do what?" He asked confused again.

Short term memory. Emmett was by far the strangest drunk I had happened across. I shrugged and pulled him on the booth seat and balanced myself. "Want to see my drunken tricks?" I asked Emmett with a sly smile. He nodded. I raised my coffee cup to my mouth and began to drink, and drink, and drink.

"DAMN, BELLA!"

After the contents of the glass were empty I steadied myself, it was a parlor trick, and it hurt like hell, but it never failed to impress. Emmett began to bounce on the booth cushion. "Em, stop!" I yelled, the Jack wasn't settling well in my stomach, and everyone was about to see proof of this.

"Bella, dance."

He continued to bounce repeatedly, "No, Emmett!" I yelled, but it was too late, my lack of agility paired with a burning throat and stomach fared too much for my small frame. My body was flying forward—or downward, toward the booth's table. I closed my eyes bracing for contact.

Then I was out.

"B squared times the root of 8 minus 4BA under the cubic function of 3." This was what I heard first—Emmett's voice.

"Shut up." Groaned another. This was the second thing I heard—Jasper's voice.

"She's such a klutz. I'm going to paying insurance forever if she keeps coming in." This was the third thing I heard—Jacob's voice.

"You are all idiots! You don't let Bella dance, sober or not, she can't walk on a flat surface correctly, you don't let her dance! Idiots!" This was the fourth thing I heard—Alice's voice.

"Aw, hell." I moaned. "Who one?"

All the voice began to whisper and finally, "Me! I won!" This was Alice's triumphant voice. I heard the others groan. I laughed to myself, anytime I landed in the hospital, which is where I presumed I was, the others would take bets to see how long it was until I woke up.

I sat up slowly, appraising the room.

"Portland General?" I groaned. "I hate this one. They have all the interns and shit. They always screw up my charts."

"Shut up, Bella." Alice snapped lovingly.

She walked over smiling. Her hand extended toward my head, and she rested it on the top of my hair, and placed her lips next to my ear. "Next time I have to fill out an ER information form, you better be dead." I laughed.

Oh how dark the little woman was. I nodded, "Sorry." I pouted.

"Not even working." She laughed, and resumed her slouch along the wall of chairs. I looked at her questioningly, why had she left me by myself, and she nodded her head to the door. There was an old man, and what seemed like a flurry of white lab coats behind him. _Interns_, I sneered in my head.

The old man turned to the group. "Who has the chart?" A slender arm shot up with the chart above the heads of all. I rolled my eyes.

"Cullen, come on. The rest of you may observe or take a break, this is the last case, but none of you leave, you are still on call."

All scurried, I must not have harmed myself too much.

The old man walked into my room, and closed the curtain half-way, allowing for a small amount of privacy. "Mrs. Swan, would it bother you…"

"If I have an intern read my chart aloud and attempt to benefit from this medical experience educationally?" I said with perked eyebrows. "Of course not."

Then Edward walked in. At the sight of him, my head rolled back and hit the headboard behind me. "Shit, shit, shit." I muttered, apparently loud enough for all in proximity to hear, unfortunately for me, this included Emmett.

"Who's that Bella?" He yelled without reason.

"This, Emmy, dear, is Edward." I smiled.

"Whoa!" Emmett yelled again, "Your girlfriend's a whore—"

"Alright!" Jake said, grabbing Emmett's arm, "We're going to get him some coffee, and aspirin, and maybe a ten second delay." Jacob dragged an unwilling Emmett from the room, and left five very uncomfortable in his wake.

Edward's eyes met mine, and I felt the embarrassment leak from my pores. "Sorry," I amended, "he has turrets."

* * *

_Hope no Jake fans are offended by him being gay, but come on, it's funny! Every girl needs a good gay friend! _:p _Anyway, the next update will be up in no later than 7 days! _:)


	4. CH4: Tis but a Scratch

_Sorry for the delay, I'm trying to stick to a seven day period between chapters at the most, but this week's events did not feel the need to cooperate. I hope you enjoy this. It's a bit flashbacky, and it may confuse you now, but it will all make sense in time. If you read the first part you'll see what I mean. This hasn't been beta'd yet, so expect typoes, but I really wanted to get this out to you guys so you had something to read. I didn't leave you! Enjoy! _:)

_Disclaimer: Really don't own Twilight; pick up your jaws, I know, I was shocked, too._

* * *

I hate large gaps in movies where you don't know what happened.

Some big event will happen, and everyone will draw conclusions, there will be a couple of options, every person having valid reasons for their cause, but then the movie jumps—sometimes years in advance—and you don't find out until later what happened. Writers are just assholes. Because you had questions to begin with, and the quantum leap only adds about five times more, and then, in one rapid flashback everything makes sense. It's rather exhausting.

Writers really are assholes.

"Could a sales associate from lingerie please come to customer service for a SKU?" I threw the teddy I was hanging on the floor and stomped to the front. I hated my job. Here I was a graduate from the University of Washington—Seattle with a double major in English Literature and Journalism working the Herps detail at a local retail store. My feet slid unwillingly against the tile toward the front desk.

When I arrived a woman that can only be categorized as obese was holding a piece of fabric that—for her—should only be categorized as illegal. I walked behind the counter to see my only friend at work, Liam, hiding his bright red face. "Uhm," he coughed to hide a laugh, "Mrs. Nelson here needs a SKU number for this," he buried his face I in my shoulder, and cough erratically, "…thing."

Mrs. Nelson jutted the abused item in front of me and tapped her foot impatiently. I looked at Liam with a look of horror on my face because the garment had obviously been tried on.

My day had already been hell; actually, my last two weeks had been hell. Everything moved too fast, I was forced into a neck brace by a prick of a doctor… intern, whatever. Mike had decided Jessica was good enough to move in with him, and Alice was moving in with Jasper, deciding to sell her cottage in the process. (I didn't resent her for it; I couldn't afford the house, anyway, but I was looking for a scapegoat for my anger.) So, I was currently living with a burping, farting pizza boy named Emmett. Rosalie hated me and my boobs and always insinuated that Emmett and I were shacking up—alluding that the neck brace was a ruse—and refused to come to the house when I was there.

Liam's cough brought me back to reality. "One moment, Mrs. Nelson." I smiled kindly.

I excused myself from the counter and walked the ten feet to my manager's office. I rapped on the door lightly, and heard shuffling, no doubt she was shacking up with her boyfriend as she had many times before. "One sec!" I heard the muffled voices argue quietly, and I saw Lauren's head appear suddenly, her hair in utter disarray.

"Oh." How those two letters could sound so condescending coming from her was amazing. "I'm busy, Bella."

I pursed my lips. "I know, but I needed to tell you something," I tucked a loose strand behind her ear, "I quit." I smiled sweetly and walked away, stopping by Liam to let him know what had happened. Mrs. Nelson was still there.

"There you are!" The beefcake yelled at me.

I ignored her and hugged Liam, he was reluctant and confused, but after releasing him I just nodded at him. I think he understood, or at least he pretended to, I turned to leave, but remembered one last item of business.

"Mrs. Nelson, I will not allow you to purchase that 'garment'. You see, there are laws against public indecency, and I can't allow you to subject yourself to that fine," I appraised the outfit once more, "or possible jail time. Do me a favor, put it back, and buy a book on yoga—no, not yoga, just, jog around your house sometime, by yourself."

With this I left, I didn't need to see the woman's face to understand what her reaction was, I blew Liam a kiss, and held up the international signal for phone telling him to give me a ring.

I don't know what I was expecting when I left. Maybe a musical montage signifying my freedom, or wind blowing in my hair, just something more than nothing. I threw off my name tag in an attempt to up the ante on my liberation, but nothing happened. I huffed through the mall until I got to the parking garage and searched endlessly for my car, because I am incapable of remembering anything.

I finally came across my car. I was forced to sell my truck for parts after one fateful day when the honker decided to officially crap out on me. My new car was bought for me by my father, and I loathed the idea of it, and only drove when necessary. I sat down abrasively in the leather interior. I wanted to scream, but I was suffering from a hang over. It seemed like recently I was always suffering from a hang over. Without looking, or thinking, I whipped out of the parking spot, hitting a car parked behind me.

I sat idle for a moment contemplating what the right thing to do and the easy thing to do was. After deciding what each of course of action would be, I took to deciding which I would choose.

My mind felt like it was shutting down. I didn't know what to do. And then the emotion I used to beg for came freely, spilling down my cheeks, burying rivers in my foundation, and trailing stains onto my shirt. I was spent.

* * *

"_Ms. Swan, you have a concussion, and it looks as those you have pulled a muscle in your neck."_

"_I get concussions all the time, and a pulled muscle is nothing; give me a Loritab and send me home." I snapped. Everyone had left me to myself, and Lucifer's intern had returned before anyone else that morning. _

"_I see that." Edward smiled, "I have your chart."_

"_Stop smiling. You look like an idiot." He looked like anything but an idiot, but I was in no mood for games. At my insult, I saw his smile drop, and I felt somewhat guilty for my blunt nature, but as far as I was concerned, he was somewhat responsible for my being here. _

"_Listen, you need to stay here one more day. I'll bring you Jello or something to shut you up." He slapped my chart closed, and slammed it on my bed with such force that it fell off. I saw him pause at the door, his back turned away from me. He was contemplating whether to pick it up or not. _

_I don't know how long the moment that passed lasted, but it was one of the more awkward moments of my existence. _

_He turned slowly and propped his body against the door after a few minutes and beamed. One of my eyebrows shot up in confusion, "What?" I demanded._

_Edward said nothing; he walked off into the hall and returned a moment later with a wheelchair between his hands. "Want to go on a stroll?"_

_My mouth fell open. This man was insane. I was just insulting him, and now he wants to 'stroll'. "Are you bipolar?" I blurted out._

"_Yes." Again, he was beaming._

"_Are you clinically insane, too?"_

"_Yes." His responses were so calm._

"_Are you going to kill me and chop me up into little pieces if I'm left alone with you?"_

"_Yes. Get in the chair." _

_I laughed a small laugh at his willingness to agree to my accusation of axe murderer, but the other part of me considered heavily whether he was serious or not. I sided with the part of that allowed for the leaving of my small room, and placed myself in the chair. _

_I wanted to make sure he knew that this was not, by any means, to appease him, but to merely make him shut up, and catch a breath of fresh air, so I crossed my arms like a four-year-old and huffed out a gust of air. I heard him muffle a laugh by coughing._

_Edward wheeled me toward the elevators; I noticed the eyes of every woman—and some men—in the hospital. I assume some were wishing they were in my position. How naive they were. _

_The forty seven seconds it took for the elevator to arrive were excruciating, but no more excruciating than the one hundred and twenty six second elevator ride. The doors opened to a small lobby, and I was wheeled out into the parking lot._

"_This is hardly the scenic outing I was imagining." I said._

_Edward said nothing. He rolled my chair past the majority of cars and into the bareness of the parking lot. I began to wish for my cell phone, pepper spray, shank and various other devices in case the axe murderer theory happened to be true. My thoughts occupied the ride until my front wheels stopped abruptly. I flew out of the chair and into a pile of grass._

"You asshole!" I yelled, but it was muffled by leaves and grass pressed against my face. 

_I heard him laugh, and felt a hand on my waist. I jerked from his touch and flipped myself—I'm sure I resembled a fish on dry land, but I didn't care, I didn't need his help. _

_Edward came to stand directly over me, his feet on either side of my waist, pinning me to the grass beyond the parking lot; his face was parallel with mine, yet four feet above it. That damn grin littered his face still. "I'm sorry."_

"_You know, it's hard to believe you when your smile is taking up the majority of your face." I scowled. _

_The smile dropped minimally, this was more of a smirk. "We need to talk."_

"_Fine," I crossed my arms again, "talk."_

"_I heard about this… plan of yours…" He was smiling again._

"_Shit." I gulped._

"_You want to date me."_

_I sat up at his accusation; unfortunately, this put me eye to eye with his crotch. It was becoming a second home nowadays. He laughed at my predicament. "I'll bit it if you don't move."_

_Edward's smile was now completely absent and he moved to sit directly across from me. "You want to date me." He said again._

"_Only so Mike feels as emasculated as possible." I justified. "It's nothing personal."_

_Edward was silent for a few minutes, and I watched as he obviously deliberated with something, "Did you honestly not know?"_

"_About?"_

"_Mike and Jessica," He rolled his eyes._

"_No," I admitted, "did you?"_

"_From the beginning," He sounded so calm, like I just asked him the time. What was wrong with this man?_

"_Are you made of stone?" _

"_Yes."_

"_Stop saying yes!" _

"_That could be an ad for teen pregnancy." _

"_I'm leaving; you're the one that wanted to have a serious conversation in the middle of nowhere," I presented our surroundings with my hand, "and now you are making teen baby momma jokes."_

"_They're a crowd pleaser!" He defended._

"_You are insane!" I began to stand up, but with the weight of the neck brace everyday activities were made more difficult. I tumbled, well, rolled is a better verb. I rolled forward toward Edward, I hoped with every fiber of my body that my face didn't land in his crotch for a third time, and my thoughts were rewarded, I ended up merely pummeling the unsuspecting ass to the ground._

"_This is awkward." He laughed._

"_Help me up!" I squirmed on top of him trying to stand, but he grabbed my sides quickly._

"_Okay, Ms. Swan, I'm a doctor, and I can tell you, when women squirm as you are, certain anatomical changes take place to a man." _

_For the first time his face was stolid, "You're an intern, not a doctor."_

"_Correct." He sat up and placed me back against the wheelchair. "Now, I did want to have a serious conversation, but… it's too easy to be myself around you."_

"_That is the creepiest thing anyone has ever said to me."_

"_I have been known to be a creeper."_

"_You exceed expectations." _

_He sighed audibly and began to speak again, "I'm not Jessica's biggest fan right now either. You see, we were trying to work things out. Well, that's a lie. She was trying to work things out with me, I kind of just let her call me what she wanted because I could bury myself in the hospital whenever I wanted. I didn't need her love or affection. So, if I was her boyfriend so be it, if she had 17 boyfriends, so be it. I wasn't affected."_

"_So why help me?" He was silent. "Dr. Cullen?"_

"_Because, she embarrassed me; I have an ego to stroke." He smiled, but it was fake._

"_Fine." _

"_Well, don't do me any favors."  
_

"_Okay, fine." I took a deep breath. "Edward Cullen, will you be my fake-boyfriend?"_

_He was beaming again. "I love to."_

* * *

"Hey! Did you just hit my car?" I snapped out of dreamlike state to the sound of an irate voice, but I couldn't make out the direction it was coming from. I spun around and saw no one. "Hey! You!" I spun around to again, but saw no one. I began to panic, _where the hell was this person? Were they going to kill me? Would I die with George Bush as president?_

Then there was nothing. I reached in my purse for my pepper spray and found nothing but a bottle of Germ-X. I shrugged, I could make it work. I waited for the voice to sound again, but instead I heard laughing. Hysterical laughing.

As soon as I heard this, I threw my car in drive and sped out of the parking garage; he'd know where to find me.

* * *

_I was wheeled back to my room after the strangest conversation I could remember, and given a dose of pain killers to numb the pain from my head and neck. I complained as they induced me, but secretly I welcomed the drugs, hoping to slip into some coma only to wake up where everything was better. _

_Unfortunately, I didn't slip into a coma, I didn't even feel tire; I stayed wide awake the whole night._

_Around three o'clock in the morning is when Edward came in. He looked absolutely exhausted. I assume he thought I was asleep, because he turned into my room, closing the door softly, and pressing his back against it. I saw his hand fly to the bridge of his nose and grip it tightly. His eyes were closed. _

_It was somewhat strange to see him go from kid in a candy store to worrisome in under 24 hours, but I dismissed the curiosity that lurked. _

"_Morning sunshine," I said with my eyebrows raised._

_He groaned and opened his eyes for the first time, "Did I wake you up?"_

"_Yes." I smiled. I would respond yes to all of his questions, and see how frustrating he found it. _

"_I'm sorry," he sighed. _

_I shrugged, "Not a problem. I really wasn't asleep; I'm just trying to be an asshole."_

_He smirked, and set a load of charts on my bed and stepped into the bathroom. Craning my neck, I could see both of his hands on either side of the sink, and his head hung low as if he were asleep. I wasn't one for sympathy, but this was pathetic. _

"_Eddie-Weddie," I called, remembering his nickname Jessica had given him; he laughed without humor._

"_Yes?"_

"_Would you like to take a nap? I have this lovely recliner here," I did my best to imitate Vana White's display skills, "and it's more than welcoming to annoying doctors."_

_Edward slipped out of the bathroom and smiled, "Intern." He corrected._

_I smiled a chide smile, and motioned to the chair, "Come on," I edged, "all the cool kids are doing it."_

_Without needing further prodding, Edward took a seat in the chair and was long asleep before I could make a comment about his sleeping on the job. _

_The sound of Edward's pager woke him up around six o'clock, and he was on his feet as if he hadn't been sleeping before that. I tossed him the pager that was on my bed, and he looked down and grimaced. "Jessica." He muttered. I cocked my head to the side in confusion, and he turned, "she likes to bring me things."_

"_You're still dating?!" I screeched._

"_I guess so," he said backing away._

"_She is _living_ with Mike!"_

"_Oh, that's going to put a damper on the relationship; elephant in the room, kind of thing. Maybe she's come to bring me my key!" I saw him jump minimally in excitement. _

_I saw him begin to number the possibilities in his head. I took the chance to stand up, and walked toward him. "Edward," I said bringing him back into the conversation, "I still need to make Mike cry. Why don't we use this little opportunity to get our first dig in?"_

_Before Edward could answer, my door was being slammed open by none other than Malibu Barbie herself. "Eddie-Weddie!" She screeched. Jessica had in her hands a basket of small items, obviously bought in the down stairs gift shop. A nurse was trailing behind her with a panicked look on her face. _

"_Dr. Cullen, I'm sorry." She pleaded._

_Edward held up a hand to her, "No worries, Angela, she's with me."_

_Angela nodded and ducked back behind the Nurse's Station to resume charts and whatnot, leaving Jessica in the room with Edward and I. "Eddie, I just wanted to…"_

_At this point everything happened too fast. Angela left, Jessica began talking, and then my back was against the wall, and I was being attacked—in possibly the best way._

_Not two feet from Jessica, Edward had pinned me to the wall, and ran his hand through my hair. He took his time, but moved quickly. I saw his frown curve into a sly smile, and he winked at me before our lips made contact. _

_I was taken aback by the intensity of our "first dig" and didn't respond until Edward gave my waist a squeeze, reminding me we had an audience. I let me body melt into the kiss, and began to return all of his advances. I faintly remember hearing Jessica scream Edward's name repeatedly, but this didn't phase me in the least. I was a bit occupied. _

_After breathing became more of a necessity than a luxury, Edward pulled away, his forehead against mine, and breathing heavily. The sly smile from before had vanished and his eyes now oozed a very powerful emotion: lust._

_This was wrong. He can't feel for me what I used to feel for Mike. It wasn't right, this was a ploy, not a romantic advance. I braced my hands on his chest and gave him a hard push away from me. I could tell by the look on his face that this was the last thing that he wanted. I ducked to the side of my bed, and grabbed my already packed duffel bag from yesterday, slung it over my shoulder, and left muttering, "Sorry, I can't…" _

_How classic, Bella._

_I ran to the stairs in my hospital dress, hoping I was wearing appropriate underwear, and down the three flights, not allowing for the pause the elevators would cause. I reached the lobby in record time, and demanded I be released._

"_Name," the nurse called to me._

"_Swan, Bella. I think I'm being released against doctor's wishes, and that's fine, I just need to go now."_

_The nurse flipped through a few files at a snail like pace, but my frantic behavior must have sent her into overdrive. She returned my file to the front, and I signed all papers without reading them, hoping I wasn't selling my soul for a bag of Cheetos in the process._

_I ran outside quickly, and sat in the first cab I saw. _

"_Woah, lady, where's the fire?"_

"_Just get me home, please."_

_The driver appraised my appearance, but shrugged off his insinuations. "Which is where?"_

"_1330 Southwest on 3rd Avenue."_

"_Aye, aye cap'n."_

_I leaned my head against the head rest and stared out the top of the back window. What had I done? Sure it was okay for Mike to get hurt, maybe even Jessica, and if I somehow got hurt in the mix, it was my own fault, but Edward? What had he done to deserve this? And more importantly, what had I done recently to deserve him?_

* * *

"Bella, open the door!"

Shit, now I was going to get it. I hit his car and drove away; he was going to kill me. I knew it. He knew it. Everyone knew it. Maybe I deserved it. I wasn't exactly the model of good behavior as of late.

"No!" I pouted for my own comfort.

"I'll break the door down, I swear! You hit my damn car!"

"I know!" I wailed, "I was _there_!"

More banging ensued. I sunk low into my couch and fumbled with the phone in my hands. It's not like he would actually hurt me. We'd been through things together, and I don't think that the minor dent on his fender should result in my death. But the banging and yelling still continued. I took comfort in the fact that Emmett would be home soon, and would probably kick his ass, but until then I was left with the screaming banshee on the other side of my door.

"Isabella Swan!" His voice boomed again.

"Okay, you know what? You're overreacting, it's just a scratch!" Okay, maybe not a scratch, more like dent. A big dent. A crater.

"Like hell it is! I think you popped the wheels out of alignment!"

"They looked fine to me!" I yelled back across the door.

I was expecting a yell in response on his part, but I heard nothing. I peered out of my door's peep hole and saw his slender figure still there, and I wasn't imagining things. He wasn't yelling. He didn't even look irate… maybe a little miffed, but not murderous.

I heard a sigh on his part, "Can I come in?" His voice sounded so small. He was truly asking; I could say no. But would I? I had every reason to, but part of me yearned to let him in. I didn't surprise myself by opening the door to see him leaning against the door jamb.

I sighed, "Hey, Mike."

I stepped aside and he slid past me into the apartment. I dared not think of what was to happen next.

* * *

_Hope no one's confused! Next update should be up in no more than 7 days! _:)  
-May


	5. AN: Pump the Brakes!

Hello, all

Hello, all!

My goodness, I am so sorry about my absence! It has been unbelievably hectic lately. I have received numerous pleas for me to continue, and let me assure you: I will! Updates will be less frequent than what they used to, but everything will be running smoothly in no time. Just to give you a glimpse, I'm juggling two jobs, full-time student, and… well, I have a very active social life. ;) There are many a nights I don't remember, and that too is slowing down. I will write more and at the very least, give you very, very long updates to compensate for the lack of frequency.

Thank you guys for caring enough to use "strong" pleas, and I will write more. Unfortunately, I have a term paper due by midnight tonight, so the updating will begin sometime during the week, but I promise, it will be done! I have already begun writing it, and I think you will all enjoy it.

Thanks again,

May


	6. CH5: The Brig

_Oh my god, I know. It has been forever! The only positive thing that came out of my leave of abscene was the overwhelming support from you guys. I can't tell you guys how many encouraging... and sometimes threatening (haha, seriously, that's got to stop, children) messages I recieved begging me to continue; so here I am. I'm back and ready to go. I split the next chapter up, because I'm all about a cliff hanger, and depending on the response the next chapter could be up as early as tonight! Depends on you guys, and as always, enjoy! _:) _May._

* * *

I hate voiceovers. They always allude to what is going to happen in the plot. They take the surprise out of things. Sometimes, I just want to be blindsided, damn it.

* * *

"Let's not pretend; I want you. I need you. I just…" His dark voice crept into my ears, "I can't…"

"Shh, I know. Its like I can't breath without you near me. Its like I can't think without you beside me. I love you. I love you!"

"Bella, what the fuck are you watching?" Ugh, Emmett.

I cut my eyes toward the dark hallway his voice was coming from, and glared. Can a girl not watch a sappy soap opera without being interrupted? "Its fucking _Days of Our Lives_! Now shut the hell up."

I heard pounding then. "_Days_?" Emmett was before me, then, heaving with excitement, "I love _Days_!"

I groaned, and moved my feet to make room for him, "You would love soap operas." Emmett moved to take his seat when we heard a loud groan and banging from the back guest bed room. Emmett froze, allowed two seconds of thought to pass, and sat down. After a few moments of awkward silence, and no movement from either of us, I decided to address the elephant. "Isn't this illegal? I mean, I don't feel bad per say, but I would feel a twinge guilty if you were thrown in the slammer, fella."

This caught his attention, "Me? This was _your_ idea!"

"It was a joke!"

Emmett scoffed, "Sounded serious enough to me."

The banging and groaning ensued. Emmett and I yelled "SHUT UP!" in unison.

The rest of our evening was spent watching _Days_ re-runs on the SOAP Network in silence. Unfortunately, it left time to recollect.

"_Hey, Mike." I propped the door open, and allowed him to slide through. Once cleared, I closed the door quietly, and turned to see him appraising the apartment. _

_He snickered, "Wow, uh, movin' on up, aren't we?"_

_I suppose he had a right to snicker. No matter what direction you looked, there were piles of red cups, bottles, pizza boxes (Emmett and I took great advantage of his employee discount), and other items which have yet to be named. There was a sheet on the couch, and the TV was on top of a patio table. The kitchen had become a full-fledged bar, and everything smelt of alcohol. _

_Mike turned to me, "You _live _here?"_

"_It's free." I rolled my eyes and brushed past him._

_Mike went to sit on the couch, "I can loan you," he picked up a pair of boxers, and tossed them out of his way, "some money, you know."_

"_I don't need anything from you, Mike". Silence was shared, and I went to the "kitchen" to get us both a beer. I grabbed two long-necks, and sat beside him with a thud, "Here." I jutted the bottle towards him, "Drink."_

_Before his hand reached the glass, some part of his intensely delayed brain must have clicked on. "I'm sorry."_

"_I said I don't need anything from you, Mike. That includes your lame-ass apologies."_

_I pushed the beer further his way, encouraging him to drink. After a minute, he conceded, and took a long drag from the bottle. "So, you hit my car."_

"_Yeah, I know." I took another drag myself._

"_You going to pay for it?"_

"_Nope." I said, popping my 'p'. _

"_Okay." He stood up, "Fair enough."_

"_That's it?" This was strange. I hadn't been with Mike in a month, but there was no time for a personality overhaul. He was a yeller. A screaming, yelling, moron that dug himself deeper into holes. He didn't amend things, and he certainly never left relationships anywhere close to in tact._

"_That's it," he set the beer on the counter and fumbled for his keys._

"_No yelling, no screaming. No, 'Bella, you idiot, you ruined my car, you're going to pay for it!'?" I found my impersonation of him to be dead on._

"_No. It isn't worth it. Besides, let's just call this an 'eye-for-an-eye'."_

_This wasn't over. Mike hurt me, and I wanted him to suffer. The Edward thing didn't work, and he was happy; content. He was a new person, and it was because I wasn't there. He was the wrong one, I should be the one that's happier without him. _

_I heard Emmett's car in the lot below and decided to take evasive action. Mike turned to leave, "Hey, wait."_

"_What is it?" I could hear Emmett's door slam, and him ascending the stairs. _

_I took a deep breath and moved toward Mike. "I, uh… I just wanted to thank you…" I pressed my body closer to his. Emmett was almost to our flight of stairs now, I could hear his foot steps nearing. "…for the apology. It really did mean a lot to me."_

"_You're welcome, Bella." Mike breathed. Not sensually, more in a nervous-confused manner. _

_I heard Emmett's keys in the door jingle, and I acted. I threw myself on Mike. Our lips made contact and it felt so wrong. It felt like kissing a stranger… and not a hot one, more like a hobo. It definitely was all wrong. I could feel the hesitation in his lips, but I edged him forward, and after a little persuasion he complied. _

_I let Emmett get a good ten seconds in before I ripped myself away, and slapped Mike. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"_

"_What?" Mike screeched. "You…"_

"_She what?" His voice boomed like the older brother to me he was. _

"_I… she… I don't…"_

"_Bella?" Emmett cocked his head to the side with a question on his brow._

_Rather than try and lie, I hid my face, and shook my head in my hands. It would be easier this way, if I didn't have to look at Mike. I was too childish and selfish to look at his face now. _

"_Bella tell him that nothing…"_

"_Don't talk to her." Emmett demanded. He turned his voice to me. "What do you want me to do?"_

_What did I want him to do? What did I want him to do?! I wanted him to kill him; emasculate him. Make sure he never hurts someone the way he hurt me again. I want him to beat him to a pulp, and break his legs. I want him to make him tell me the truth, the whole, and nothing but the truth, so help him god. I wanted Emmett to tie him into a pretzel, and make him a centerpiece for the table…_

"_Bella, what do you want me to do?" _

_At this I began laughing. All of my ideas were ludicrous. "I don't know, lock him up and throw away the key." I said this still laughing. _

_Emmett shrugged, "Okay." _

_My laughing stopped, and Mike was over Emmett's shoulder kicking and screaming. Emmett tossed him into our guest bedroom with ease, and locked the door, and came back into the living room, where I stood shocked. _

"_Let's order some pizza." _

After John had been killed and revived six times, Emmett and I decided to call it quits. I flipped off the TV, and stood up with a groan. Emmett groaned, too and flopped down on the couch. I took the opportunity of silence from the back room to stretch. I felt the tenseness from my toes to my fingertips. Holding Mike hostage was doing a number on me…

Then it happened: the story of my life.

The pounding on the door was reminiscent of earlier today when Mike had flown of the hinge, but this was a little less urgent. The person on the other side of the door wasn't angry. The person on the other side of the door wasn't crazy. Maybe strong, but they weren't here to use it. The person on the other side of the door…

"Dr. Cullen, what a wonderful surprise," Emmett grit through his teeth.

When had Emmett answered the door? I was reflecting, freaking reflecting. I was dealing with inner-turmoil; being deep and shit, and Emmett fucks it up, again.

Wait… "Edward?" I caught myself asking, stunned.

"Present," a muffled voice called from the door.

"Want me to send him to the brig, too?" Emmett offered.

"No, Emmett! We can't take any more prisoners. We're booked." Emmett stomped off muttering, obviously upset he couldn't throw anyone else away, and trudged to his bedroom, giving the extra bedroom door a good kick on his way. I turned my attention to my favorite intern. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Let's get married."

"What?"

"I don't know," Edward beamed.

"You seriously have to be clinically insane." I felt like a broken record when talking to him.

"I am." Was he seriously always smiling? For the love of god, I was going to slip him some muscle relaxers and hope it faded.

"And I assume you came here to make good on the axe-murder-chop-me-up-into-tiny-bits promise." I laughed and ushered him inside.

"Actually," he said spinning, "I did."

I knew I shouldn't have believed him, but something in his eye made me think that, if provoked, he actually would. I took in a deep breath and laughed nervously. "I'm going to get a drink…"

"You're always getting a drink." He laughed.

I poured myself a glass of Crown and turned around, only to have Dr. Cullen all up in Ms. Swan's personal space. "Hello," I said smoothly.

"Hey," he replied just as smooth. "You want to go somewhere with me?"

"Now?" I said with a raised eyebrow. "It's ten."

"You turn in so early for a party animal."

"Alcoholic," I corrected.

He grabbed my coat by the door, "Ah, to have aspirations." He smiled and waved me over toward my jacket. I didn't pause to think; I just went. I was past the point of trying. Someone was going to get hurt, and I just hoped to god it wasn't Edward… or an innocent bystander.

Edward and I descended the stairs—he did so with grace; I was still perfecting the art of walking. When we hit solid ground and I sent up a silent prayer, we headed to Edward's car. I was looking for a BMW, Volvo, or Mercedes, maybe.

"You drive this?" I asked when we arrived at his car.

"It's cheap," he laughed.

"It's a Vespa!" I screeched, "there's no room for me!"

"Oh, on the contrary," Edward signaled to the other side of the Italian made scooter, and nearly jumped with excitement when a sidecar appeared in my sight. "I was expecting you to say yes."

"I am not riding in the thing."

Edward put on his helmet, and laughed, "Yes you are. Because I'm going to let Mike out if you don't."

He knew? How did he know? He always knew things. Damn him. "I hate interns!"

"As do we hate patients," he boarded the scooter, "which is why we kill the ones we don't like."

I assumed my face gave away my uncertainty. "I made it out alive."

"Yes, but you left willingly, we had plans for you." Edward turned the key and revved the tiny, _tiny_ engine. "You coming?"

"If I don't get alcohol…"

"You will, get in!" I could see him becoming more and more impatient, and decided I would play along with his little charade, childish as it seemed.

The ride was miserable. There was wind… everywhere, all the time, doing things to my hair. There were bugs all up in my grill. There were people laughing; I gladly gave them the finger. But worst out of all was Edward's sheer enjoyment in the matter. His damn smile never faltered.

Eventually, we came to stop in front of a business looking building. Once officially parked I jumped out of the side car like my life depended it on—because if nothing, my sanity did. Edward took of his helmet, which was appropriately adorned with stickers, and—for the first time in what seemed like a month—he wasn't smiling. His face was blank and serious, and his eyes were directly on me.

I turned my head behind me, checking for assailants or possible axe murderers. There was no one. I turned back to Edward with an eyebrow cocked, "What?" I didn't know if I wanted an answer. For all I knew, there was a bug crammed between my two front teeth.

"Come here."

As if in a trance, I floated toward him, and his fucking scooter, "Edward, you are scaring me." And I wasn't lying. The more I was around the more I feared for my safety.

"Isabella, I am so sorry."

What the fuck was he talking about? "Uh, it's okay?" I responded with a questioning inflection, "but for what exactly?"

There it was: the smile. "I forgot to give you your helmet!"

I pushed myself away from him with a thrust against his chest and stamped off into the night, having no idea where I was headed. I was an idiot. Actually, I still am an idiot, but at least now I… we'll get to that. I pressed my back against the wall of the building and reached in my bag for my cell phone.

"Bella, we're going to be late."

I turned my gaze to him, and let my eyes muster a hard, vengeful glare, "I'm not going anywhere with you. You are crazy, and you drive a scooter! Not to mention the fact that you really are crazy, and at any point tonight you could kill me."

"I could revive you." He beamed, "I'm a doctor."

"You're an intern."

The smiled dropped, "Let's go. I don't want to make even more of a bad impression."

Damn it, if my curiosity didn't guide my decisions. Without asking, I slipped my phone back in my bag, and followed him into the building. He was courteous; he held the door, and walked behind me, guiding my way with his hand on the small of my back. I'd be lying if I said I hated it.

But then again, I'd be lying if I said I didn't hate him after we arrived our destination.

We came up on a set of wooden doors. I could hear muffled voices, and part of me hoped for a party with booze, but I was sure I heard, chanting almost. Like a group of people reciting a creed.

Edward opened the doors, and I saw where we were. There was a circle of about 12 people all sitting in collapsible chairs—this was obviously not the building's sole purpose. Against the white wall was a long white table with refreshments, and next to that was a makeshift welcome sign, plainly reading, "Welcome".

"Edward!" a woman of about 5' 3" exclaimed when we walked in.

His hand left my back, and I was a twinge uncomforted without his warmth, "Esme." He smiled, and welcomed the woman with open arms, "how are you?"

"Amazing. Everyone brought a friend," she smiled, and then peeked around his shoulder to look at me, "who is this?"

"This is Bella." He smiled—no surprise there; but there was something different about it. He wasn't amused, or being an asshole, he looked genuinely happy to say my name, to have me there.

Esme stepped around him, and he arms closed around me like the Jaws of Life. "Welcome, I'm so glad you came."

I laughed nervously, "Thanks, but I don't exactly know where I am. Is this a party?" My nervous laugh broke again, "Where's the booze?" I cracked with a smile. I winked to let her know it was a joke, but Edward looked at me with the strangest impression. The only thing I can compare it to is a deer in the headlights.

Esme looked around nervously, and stroked my hand, "Why don't we sit?"

I shrugged, and waltzed over to Edward, "Nice lady."

Edward nodded, "She saved my life."

I was seeing a whole new Edward and I didn't know where it was coming from, but it would have been a lie to say I didn't appreciate it. He took my hand, and led me to the circle.

"Friends, this is Bella," Edward announced to the group.

"Hi, Bella." The crowd said in unison. I blushed and waved meekly.

As soon as I sat down, Edward and the man beside me took my hand. I repelled to the strange man's touch, but soon realized everyone in the circle was joining hands. I conceded and Edward rubbed my hand with his thumb, grabbing my attention. I turned and smiled at him, but he was staring intently at the circle. He finally caught my gaze and smirked, and leaned into my ear, "Do me favor," I nodded, "just… stay the whole time, and I'll give you anything you want." I snickered at the possibilities.

"Okay," I mouthed, now completely nervous.

"Welcome, Friends. I'm glad to see everyone brought a special someone with him or her. Shall we get started?" It was Esme that spoke. Her voice sounded like pure velvet. Everyone nodded at her request. "Edward, I believe it's your turn to kick things off."

Edward sucked in a deep breath, and gave my hand a squeeze before letting go, and standing up. "Hello, my name is Edward and I am an alcoholic. Today is my one year anniversary of sobriety."

And then the room went red, not even the sound of applause could drown out my anger.

* * *

_So, what do we think? Let me know!_


	7. CH6: Turning the Corner

_Hello, all! I realize this is terribly, terribly short--in fact, it is half the length of my first post--but I think it was a good stopping point. This will give you a little chew on while the drama stirs. I really hope everyone is enjoying this story. I have had such great support, and I am absolutely thrilled! That being said, I am in need o a beta. My beta and I lost touch, and I would search for one on the thingy they provide, but: one, I'm technologically retarded and two, I would like someone who already knows (and hopefully likes) the story. Thanks so much! Enjoy! _:)_ May._

* * *

You know those really dramatic parts in movies where everything just kind of blurs over? Like a part of reality is being ripped away? Some dramatic music will start to play, and everything else in the picture will become forethought. Sometimes it enhances the film, makes the things to come more important. Sometimes it's the end of what was before. Like, it's the corner, and everywhere you walk from then on out is going to be in a different direction than before.

Yeah, I've had those moments, and they fucking suck.

* * *

There was clapping, I distinctly remember clapping. Then there was a hand on my shoulder, I really remember this part, because I mistook this hand to be Edward's and rudely—and violently—slapped it away. I heard an older man take in a sharp intake of breath. I remember him being in a wheelchair, and reminding myself to feel like an asshole later.

Then I was in the hallway, looking for something. I don't remember what. It was important to me, though. I really wanted something. I think it was alcohol, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. That'd be a little too much for tonight. I figured I should switch to something like smoking, and then I remember thinking that I really was addicted, and began to march myself back toward the wooden doors.

Then I felt the cold gold metal on the doors, and recoiled. I turned back around and began to pace around the water fountains, because I remembered Edward's Vespa was my only way home. I was in a strange part of town, without a phone, or money, or transportation. In actuality, I probably could have walked across the street to the bar and asked for a phone, but that was the last place I wanted to be.

And then I remember it hitting me.

I ran out the doors and examined the street before me. I knew that bar. I looked at the building I was coming out of, and scolded myself for being so dumb. I flew across the street nearly killing myself along the way, and slammed into the bar's door with a thud. It knocked the wind out of me, and left a twinge of pain. I shook it off, and fumbled carelessly with the door.

I knew Edward was trailing behind me. He was silent, and creepy—like always. He said nothing as I threw a temper-tantrum over something that was more than likely true.

I finally opened the door, and ran behind the bar. Jacob didn't say anything. When I reached his office, I struggled with the knob, and realized it was locked. "Damn it." I muttered. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."

And then the emotion. The same feeling I had after seeing myself in the mirror for the first time after Mike. That feeling of hopelessness was back, and I hated it. I hated myself for it.

After a few deep breaths to keep the tears at bay, I shuffled towards the bar, where Jacob was mixing a drink and flirting with an obviously straight man—Edward. I cleared my throat, grabbing both of their attention, and pointed towards Jacob's office, "Your, uh—your office is… um, locked." I knew I sounded disoriented, and I felt like, too. There was no point in hiding it.

Jacob gave me a concerned look, and I raised the corners of my mouth for reassurance, calling it a smile would have been a lie. He reached in his overly tight jean pocket, and pulled out a set of keys. "Here." His face didn't hold his usual smile, and I nodded a thank you.

I then peered over Jacob's shoulder and locked eyes with Edward. "Are you coming?" I sighed defeated.

And he didn't smile, he didn't even smirk. He just nodded his head, and made his way around the bar, and held out his arms when he reached me. I don't know what kind of emotion over took me, but I actually accepted. I let him wrap his arms around me, and I laid my head on his shoulder. My arms were as alive as a rag doll's, and Edward let out one chuckle when he raised them and I resembled some kind of Barbie-doll. "Try," he whispered in my ear, and I wrapped my solid arms around his torso.

Some asshole started to clap, and I heard Jacob throw a glass; an "Ow" followed shortly after.

Edward took in a deep breath and released me. "Come on, Ms. Swan, I'm thirsty."

We retreated to Jacob's office, and I unfolded my favorite blanket from the corner and set it on the floor in front of the sleeper sofa Jacob had in his office. There was a television mounted in the top corner of the small room, and the _Wizard of Oz_ was playing. I laughed at the cheesiness of the situation and curled up on the blanket against the couch. Edward sat a good two feet away.

And this is how we spent our night… my first night of sobriety.

I woke the next morning on Jacob's sleeper sofa, with my blanket tucked firmly around my body—resembling some type of burrito. I remembered nothing of how I got there, but I was infamous for my deep-sleep habits. It was the same darkness in Jacob's office due to the lack of windows, and I feared I had slept through the day. Why I was worried, I didn't know, it wasn't like I had a job.

I stretched my arms above my head, and hit something soft. I cocked my head upward to see Edward in a chair by the sofa. His head was propped against the wall and his feet were on the coffee table he had obviously moved to use as a foot rest. His right side of the body was being supported by the couch, and I felt somewhat guilty for his position.

I stood up and rolled onto my tip-toes and stretched carelessly for a few moments, when something hit me like a ton of bricks, "Shit!" I yelled, forgetting completely about Edward.

He shot up like a canon, and searched the room for a cause to the disruption. "Whwhatat?" I think he was trying to say 'what'.

"Mike is at my house!" I screamed at him. How could I forget I had a hostage at my house? I was seriously the worst kidnapper ever. Edward rubbed his eyes grudgingly, and held out his hand toward me, obviously asking for assistance. I grabbed his hand and pulled with every ounce I had and he didn't budge. As he continued to rub his eyes, I saw a smirk peek through, and he pushed himself up off the chair.

"Okay," he said still groggy, "let's go get him." He laughed on our way out the door.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shook his head dismissively, "it's just that you said I was the axe-murderer and here we are going to get your hostage that you forgot after our first date."

I spun around quickly. "This was not a date."

"_The Wizard of Oz_ is classic date material." His smile grew.

"Yeah, but AA meetings aren't."

Edward's smile dropped, and he sighed. "I'm sorry." He half-whispered.

"Don't be." This time I was the one who smirked. He half smiled back, and we entered the bar area. Jacob was cleaning the top of the bar, and he smiled when he saw the two of us approach.

"Good evening." He nodded.

"Shit." I muttered.

Edward leaned into my hair, and whispered, "I didn't want to wake you."

"You were asleep too," I observed.

"It was my second nap, today." I bit my lip in embarrassment, and muttered sorry. He shrugged, and grabbed my hand as I was about to leave the bar, "There's one thing I need to do." I cocked my head in confusion, and followed him to the bar near Jacob. "Jake, I need an application for employment."

"Edward, you're a doctor. You don't need a job." Jacob smiled and handed him an application, written on notebook paper, and handed it to Edward. It was folded in half, and Edward took it with a grin.

"I'm an intern," he corrected, "and this isn't for me; it's for you."

I scoffed, "I think a bar is the last place I need to work right now."

"You're stronger than you think, and Jacob is here to keep you in check."

I eyed the application in his hand quizzically, "Since when does Jake's hire?"

"Today." Jake beamed.

I took the application and unfolded the paper. I let out a loud laugh at the application requirements, and asked for a pen. Jake threw me one, and I filled it out. There was one question. "Are you Bella Swan?" Below was a box with the word 'yes' next to it, and below that was a box with the word 'no' next to it.

I obviously checked 'yes', and threw Jake his pen back. "See you bright and early tomorrow morning." He beamed.

"How early?" I said cutting my eyes.

"Seven." Jake grinned with a devilish smile.

I rolled my eyes and headed out the front door, with Mike's well-being in mind. I was sure he was going to resemble an Auschwitz victim when we got back to my apartment, that is, if Emmett let him survive the night. At this thought I turned to Edward, "Mind if we take a cab?"

"Sure." He shrugged, and I hailed like my life depended on it—because Mike's actually did.

* * *

_Hit me with it. What do we think?  
_


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